New Neverland
by Telemathene
Summary: Peter Pan is dying, and staying on Neverland, a world of his own creation, isn't doing him any favors. He's down to week left, and safe to say, Pan's had enough of it. He gathers his Lost Boys one night and it isn't long before he works his magic. Full summary inside.
1. Prologue

**Started: April 12, 2016.**

 **Summary:** **Peter Pan is dying, and staying on Neverland, a world of his own creation, surely isn't doing him any favors. He's down to week left, and safe to say, Pan's had enough of it. He gathers his Lost Boys one night and it isn't long before he works his magic. A bright light and a strong wind later, the group of boys find themselves in the middle of a forest, but it's not just any forest. They find themselves in Sherwood Forest, or, as Pan likes to call it, New Neverland.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan from OUAT, nor do I own Robin Hood. But I _do_ own the plot concerning this story. ;)**

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

* * *

 _Peter Pan was not a happy camper._

 _With his death around the corner, Pan tried to keep a positive outlook on things. He couldn't say it'd helped any, though he had succeeded on weirding his Lost Boys out, if that had been his plan. And it wasn't._

 _As his second toughest Lost Boy, Rufio, admitted feeling a few chills down his back at Pan's behavior, Pan decided enough was enough. "Watch over them," he muttered to Felix. "I'll visit the shadow again for answers."_

 _Felix only responded with a single nodding of his head, which Pan appreciated. Pan stood from his seat at the fire, surveyed the camp of dancing boys one last time, and stalked off through the trees for Skull Rock._

 _Uneasy scenarios raced through Pan's mind at the thought of Skull Rock. That cold, chilly rock-of-an-island brought shivers down the back of even an immortal deity like Pan. Although he was in control of everything on Neverland, Skull Rock was an exception, and for obvious reasons. First, an hourglass thrice as big as well as older than him stood at the pinnacle of the cave. The golden sands inside represented the time Pan had left before he died... which Pan couldn't afford to mess with. One wrong slip-up, one mistake, and the immortal deity would fall toward the netherworld. On the other hand, if Pan were to wait out until the point in time the last piece of sand fell from the hourglass, Pan would die as well._

 _Pan had two options: do something about it and die, or don't do something about it and still die. They weren't good odds, but Pan didn't mind it. He didn't mind one bit._

 _Luckily, Pan had done something about it sooner rather than later. He'd went with the secret third option: ask the hourglass's owner about a way to counter the time until his death. The owner hadn't been willing to answer at first, but Pan had managed to weed it out of him eventually. He hadn't seen him since then, but he had to hope the owner hadn't changed his mind. Especially not when everything was falling well according to plan._

 _At the sight of Skull Rock all over again, a shiver went through Pan's body even though the dusk breezes weren't particularly cold. He climbed over the hill and made his way down to the shore. The sand was still warm from the almost-gone sun, reminding Pan of the times he and his Lost Boys had taken to the beaches for a swim during the afternoons, but that memory was gone as quickly as it came. Those were different times, back when Pan wasn't so worried about time, when Pan hadn't cared for his legacy, and when the hourglass was still more than half-filled._

 _Focusing on his destination a ways across the water, Pan willed himself to rise in the air. His body felt weightless, his view of Neverland broader. Pan forced a confident smile and flew for the cave in the distance._

 _His landing was something no shorter than perfect. Years of mastering his magic had its perks, after all, but years of avoiding Skull Rock hadn't. Now, being back at this place, Pan could remember why. The place radiated darkness and despair, as if the shadow had decided to take up residence there. It was so unsettling, Pan even declared it out of bounds to the Lost Boys, too, and he quite preferred to keep it that way now that he'd had the refresher._

 _Pan made his way up the stairs carved out at the end of the cave and to the pinnacle, where the hourglass counting down to his death stood. He couldn't keep from avoiding the colossal object; it was as if his eyes were glued to it. He could only notice the few sands left falling down the thin middle - maybe six or seven handfuls, but by the amount currently descending, it seemed like four. Pan would hardly make it through the week with that left... but he wouldn't worry. His plan was still successful. He'd have the heart of the truest believer soon. He made sure of that, but if the shadow had changed its mind..._

 _Pan painfully averted his eyes from the hourglass. "Shadow," he said instead. "You called me here."_

 _"Correct," croaked out an eerie voice in reply. It crackled even more than a bad frequency, and the echoes around the cave certainly did it no favors. "I'm sure you remember what I told you 215 years ago?"_

 _Pan had trouble swallowing. "Hard to forget."_

 _A black mass of smoke in a familiar yet crude shape of Pan appeared by the stairs. Its unblinking white orbs bore daggers at Pan. Its eyes narrowed then, and it flew as fast as one of the strongest winds on Neverland to hover by the top of the hourglass, at least fifteen feet in the air._

 _With a swift gesture to the glowing, marigold sands, it hissed out, "You've a week left."_

 _But Pan wouldn't accept this. "You told me two weeks yesterday," he reminded it._

 _"A week," it simply said._

 _"Yesterday - "_

 _"A week."_

 _"And today - "_

 _"A week."_

 _Pan grounded his jaw. "And the heart of the truest believer? The savior's so - ?"_

 _"A week."_

 _His eye twitched dangerously. "Yesterday you told me my plan would work. Which is it, shadow?"_

 _The shadow floated down slowly until it was eye-level with Pan, its white orbs glowing brighter than usual, threatening Pan to back down. "Your immortality was always temporary," it returned, its tone blunt and harsh. "There is no forever in Never - "_

 _"Neverland is a place where all dreams come true," Pan stated, his mouth a thin line. "All anyone has to do is wish it."_

 _"All any_ child _," the shadow corrected. "Peter Pan, you are no child."_

 _The shadow was right about that. Pan held back any retorts. Instead, he said, "I will find a way to stop this hourglass. I don't need the heart of the truest believer."_

 _"All attempts are futile. You cannot stop fate."_

 _"I stopped it once as Malcolm. I will stop it again as Pan."_

 _"No man alive has stopped fate, but many have prolonged it."_

 _"It's your luck I am no man, then. Peter Pan never fails."_

 _"One week. No more, no less. Spend your time wisely," the shadow simply said. Before Pan could respond, it flew back, circled around the hourglass once, and into the night._

 _Pan released a breath he'd unintentionally been holding. He took one more look at the few handfuls of sand still barely hanging above the thin middle, and with that was off for his thinking tree. He was in need of a solution now more than ever._

* * *

 _Time was quiet for Pan except for the occasional bird chips and animals scurrying across the forest floor. When he heard his first pair of footsteps and familiar voice, the sky had changed from a calm night to an early morning crimson, the few rays of morning sun just peaking over the mountains._

 _"Thought I'd find you here," the boy said. He switched his club to his other hand, sitting down next to Pan. He wore a dark hood low over his face, but Pan had no trouble discerning his worried glance. "Any news from the shadow?"_

 _Pan shook his head, sighing. "Not much. The savior's son doesn't hold the key anymore. I'm..." He shuddered at the thought. "I'm down to a week left."_

 _"We've spent years looking for a cure in every crack and crevice Neverland has to offer," the boy said. "I don't think it's on Neverland, Peter. I think we've been looking in the wrong place is all."_

 _Pan's gaze was glued to the ground. "If it's not on Neverland, it's not on anywhere."_

 _"Any leads on anything else, then?"_

 _"None. We just need more time. And time is one thing we don't have."_

 _"If the savior's son doesn't hold the heart of the truest believer, maybe someone else does. If it means you live, I'd be willing - "_

 _"No!" Pan blurted out. He turned to look into the boy's eyes. "You can't seriously be thinking about that, Felix!"_

 _But the boy didn't meet his glare. "It was a last-ditch idea."_

 _"I'm not sacrificing any of my Lost Boys, especially you. How will the Lost Boys manage when I'm gone? There has to be another way."_

 _The two thought for a while in silence. It was a few moments before the taller boy, Felix, broke the peace._

 _"We could leave the island."_

 _Pan scowled. "My magic is limited to the real world. Who know what dangers are out there after 215 years of being out of touch with it?"_

 _"I never said we'd go to the real world."_

 _Pan looked up to see a small smile on Felix's face. "Where, then?"_

 _"I'm as out of touch with the world as you are," Felix confessed. "You're asking the wrong person."_

 _"The shadow said there's no cure. What makes you so sure there is?"_

 _"I just know," Felix said with a shrug._

 _Pan regarded him with subtle skepticism. "I've sent out Greg and Tamara in countless locations. Wendy's brothers... All have returned empty-handed. Tell me, what does that suggest, Felix?"_

 _"It suggests a wrong location," Felix stated. "It's not in urban places. What about more rural ones?"_

 _"Magic cures aren't found so easily in, say, a forest."_

 _Felix smirked. "How? Have you been there?"_

 _"My shadow has," Pan admitted. "Nothing worthy reporting back, though."_

 _"What about witches? Wizards? Sorcerers? Mermaids, even?"_

 _Pan cracked a smile at that. "The world has long surpassed its magical age. The only magic mermaids have is their..." Pan raised his hands and said in air quotes, "_ singing _. Even if we found a wizard, how would he reverse a curse bestowed upon me far longer than he was born?"_

 _"I don't know," Felix confessed. "But leaving Neverland is our best bet if we're to find this cure." He stood from his place by Pan and offered him a hand. "Whatever your decision, it's no use overthinking on an empty stomach. C'mon. The Lost Boys have breakfast."_

 _Pan frowned but accepted Felix's gesture. "That doesn't mean you're right about the forests, though."_

 _"Of course not," Felix affirmed. "Or I wouldn't be anybody else."_

* * *

 _The Lost Boys said nothing of Pan's absence the day before, which Pan was thankful for, but Pan seemed to be stuck in his thoughts. The rest of the day had him sidetracked and quieter than usual, something not Pan's character at all. Even at the dinner bonfire, Pan hadn't raised his panpipes once for a round of celebration and solos. At the end he had relented due to the overwhelming support from the Lost Boys, but the tune came out boring and slower compared to the usual lively and energetic ones he'd play. By the time he finished, Pan released his panpipe, caught the eyes of every boy, and each knew there was something definitely wrong with their beloved leader. The songs of Pan's tended to show the moods he was in, and this one was certainly disheartening._

 _The light and flames of the hearth covered Pan's face in a mask of ominous silhouettes. He looked up at the starry night sky, wondering where he would begin with his explanation, and how. There was so much he kept secret from them, especially since they were only boys wanting to have fun for eternity, and Pan would give them that so-called travesty, per se, but now he had no choice and needed their help._

 _Pan decided to start simple. "We've got to leave Neverland," he said. He couldn't help but notice Felix sneaking worried glances with Rufio, the second and last Lost Boy Pan confided to. But Pan continued on: "I'm sure it's no secret to you all anymore. I am dying in one week's time, and time is scarce. Not much can be done except for hunting down this cure, whatever it may be, in time before my death so I may continue living in Neverland without fear of death. I saved every one of you in your weakest moments when you felt lonely, lost, and betrayed. I have given you a life free of responsibilities and full of luxury. I asked you for nothing in return but your companionship, and you all agreed. I now ask for you to return the favor."_

 _Around the fire, the atmosphere was tense and quiet as each boy stared at Pan. Some boys appeared scared, others shocked, and a few weren't sure how to react._

 _Studying them, Pan added on, "Neverland has been our home for many, many years, and it has served its purpose faithfully. But now it cannot help me. We must leave to find the cure before it's too late. Then we will return."_

 _A few smiles came from them at that, and Pan heard Felix's voice from the back, "I thought you said it was a bad idea."_

 _"I did," Pan agreed. "It was at the time, yes. But we've run out of options. Neverland keeps us locked here to wait on our deaths. It's time we break out and live our lives not anticipating them."_

 _Felix smiled, as did Rufio. The other Lost Boys followed soon after._

 _"Pack your bags, boys, because this time tomorrow we'll be sleeping under a new sky," Pan announced. "It'll be ancient, olden, and teeming with magic. And when we find this place, we'll call it New Neverland."_

* * *

 _If there was one thing the Lost Boys were good at, it was packing up their campsite and migrating across the island in a short time. Commotions of fabric being handled, belongings stashed, and weapons clinking together were heard, and just like that they vanished. The Lost Boys were finished in about ten minutes' time._

 _Each carrying their own bag and weapon, the boys made a tight circle around Pan. Pan closed his eyes, and focused as hard as he could to imagine an old-looking forest in his mind teeming with magic. The sight sounded impossible to Pan, but he tried as best he could._

 _All it took was a light so bright it lit up the inside of Pan's eyelids, then an icy-cold wind washing over him to freeze him over, and finally the same light yet even brighter to thaw him out. Pan opened his eyes feeling like he'd fought in one too many duels against the Lost Boys after getting mauled by one of the tigers he'd summon occasionally for hunting games while being dragged underwater to drown by the mermaids on Neverland. In other words, Pan felt so weak and dizzy, he had to sit down, catching his breath._

 _About him, the Lost Boys began to get their bearings. They looked around, and some laughed in relief._

 _"Is this Neverland?" one boy asked._

 _"Can't be," replied Pan. He held his head in his hands to make sense of what he'd just done. "I worked my magic right."_

 _"Same trees, Pan," came another voice, Rufio's this time. "Same beach heard in the distance, too."_

 _"This isn't Neverland. The magic..." Pan flicked his hand, attempting to make an apple appear, but to no avail. He tried again, furrowing his eyebrows. "Strange," he commented."My magic..."_

 _Before Pan could get anything else out, steady footsteps behind him made him rethink his plan. "Freeze! On the orders of the good king, King Richard, put your purses on the ground! It is a crime to sneak into Sherwood Forest without paying first!"_

 _The Lost Boys had no trouble readying their weapons, but noticing other men coming out of bushes and from behind trees... they were rapidly outnumbered, twelve to almost thirty that Pan could see._

 _"Halt, brothers! Put down your weapons!" the same voice as before called again, "or I shoot!"_

 _Pan kept his sword out, though, and Felix wasn't planning on putting down his club anytime soon._

 _"Who's asking?" said Pan._

 _The man stepped out of the forest, but his friends stayed behind, still surrounding the Lost Boys. The arrow on his bow relaxed, and he smiled. "You ask my name and you shall get it. My name is Robin Hood. I am well-known in this forest."_

 _"Robin Hood," said Pan, mocking a thoughtful expression. "Can't say your name rings a bell..." His lip curled upward as he studied the archer. "Now, boys!"_

 _The Lost Boys spread in opposite directions to take out the mysterious strangers, and Pan did the first thing that came to mind: he leaped forward and smacked the bow out of Robin Hood's hands._


	2. An Introduction Gone Wrong

"Now, boys!"

The Lost Boys spread out in different directions, and Pan did the first thing that came to mind: he leaped forward and smacked Robin Hood's bow out of his hands.

Just like that, the whole forest was thrown into chaos. Arrows covered the sky, and the 30-some men doubled as they appeared out from the trees and bushes, but more seemed to be falling unconscious on the forest floor, a good sign Pan had the upper hand in skill. Each of the Lost Boys looked like they were holding out on their own against Robin Hood's gang of grown men... but then Pan took into account the men's bows, and by that time, it was too late.

The sky darkened, and all Pan heard was silence as the arrows flew through the air. Then, cries from the Lost Boys sounded, and familiar cries, at that. Cries Pan could have pinpointed belonging to a handful of the smaller boys of the group. And as if to answer his question, at the edge of his peripheral vision he saw silhouettes in the distance collapse to the forest floor, more arrows embedding themselves at a tree the boy was just standing at.

Pan's voice died in his throat at the sight, growing frustrated. He wanted to yell for the Lost Boys to back off, to regroup and work on healing. He wanted to yell for a surrender and pay the price for trespassing in this forest. But most of all, he wanted to yell for Robin Hood to leave him and his boys alone to hunt for the cure before he used his magic on him and made him regret it... but he had no magic. As much as he wanted to deny it, he didn't have a single ounce. Not in this world.

Pan would have dashed to help the Lost Boy up, snap the arrows out of his body, and wave his hands around to summon his healing magic if not for Robin Hood advancing. Back on Neverland, Peter Pan was the best swordsman out of all the island's inhabitants, yet he found himself slacking in his duel with Robin Hood. Suddenly weaponless and naked without his bow, Robin Hood pulled out a knife from his boots on Pan, slashing it in the air so Pan backed off, but Pan held firm nevertheless. He got a couple scratches at Robin Hood's arms and twice across his chest, but Robin Hood was a quick learner. He caught up with Pan's fighting style in no time, feigned a couple hits, and before Pan knew it, his balance was kicked out from under him. He sat with his butt on the ground, the dagger point resting under his chin.

"That wasn't fair," Pan groaned. "How about two out of three?"

"You've already lost, brother," replied Robin Hood, his voice tight.

"I'm not your brother, brother."

"Would you prefer 'wife,' then?"

"Can't say I would," admitted Pan. "Now, on the other hand..."

Pan kicked Robin Hood's feet from under him and confiscated his knife, holding the end up to Robin Hood's chin this time. "I happen to go by Pan," he said, "and you, Robin Hood, have something of mine."

"Do I?" Robin's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Were you, perhaps, accompanied by that group of friars by and by?"

"I don't know what you just said." Pan's dagger inched closer to Robin Hood's throat. "But I'd be careful with that tongue of yours."

Robin Hood had the nerve to chuckle, which made Pan raise a questioning eyebrow. "A little late you are, Little John," he simply stated, staring behind Pan's shoulders. Pan ventured a sneaky, short glance back at this "Little John," and his mouth fell open at the sight. The longer he stared, the more he could confirm then that he'd made his first mistake.

For starters, _little_ was certainly an understatement. The man (or should he say giant?) towered at what Pan considered about seven feet tall, easy, and even worse: he was ripped all over. His muscles had muscles which had muscles. Pan, just barely reaching the guy halfway in height, was like a small leprechaun compared to him, but Pan still held firm, taking special notice of the thick, sharp-looking staff in the giant's hand.

"Well, aren't you a joy to have around," Pan noted. He skid out of the giant's way and put Robin Hood between the two, his knife still at Robin Hood's neck. "You could use some thinning out."

But the giant's eyes remained fixed on Robin Hood with a kind of care Pan saw only once before in himself and Felix. "Knock him out, good master?"

"Yes." Robin Hood's voice was rough with Pan's knife digging into his neck, but he managed. Pan moved the knife up to just below his chin, holding him in a choking hold, only hoping he wouldn't finish that thought... but he did. "Do so, Little - "

Pan was more than ready. Before Robin Hood could finish, Pan's knife slit his neck.

"Don't want to give ourselves away, do we?" Pan muttered. He let Robin Hood go as swiftly as he'd enacted the deed, allowing Robin Hood to bend over the grass and cough up blood to his heart's content.

"Good master!" The giant immediately knelt by Robin Hood's side, allowing Pan his chance. Taking advantage of Robin Hood's injury and the giant's surprise, Pan didn't waste a single second. His bloodied knife loomed over Little John, but just as he was about to plunge it in him, an arrow knocked it out of his hand.

Pan looked from his hand to the arrow's owner, a man Pan would have guessed could have been Robin Hood's twin, though on second thought all of the men wore identical Lincoln green getup to Robin Hood.

"Stay away from them!" demanded the man, another arrow already in place. "Or this next arrow goes through your heart!"

"Oh." Pan smiled. "I'd like to see that."

The man let the arrow go, but Pan reacted as fast as lightning. He stepped aside, just barely missing the arrow as it slid past his shoulders. His mouth creased itself into a lazy smile.

"Are you done wasting my time?" Pan asked. "I have much more important things to be doing, you know."

"You bray like a donkey," replied the archer, "but even a donkey has more honor than you. You are a coward."

"Me? Coward?" Pan laughed, fishing another knife from his boot. "That's a first."

Pan had the head start on this one. He wasted no time in sizing his opponent up; all he had to know was the man was an archer... and a pretty lousy one, at that. Pan lunged, and with one clean cut the bow snapped in two, leaving the archer defenseless. The archer threw down his shattered bow and took out a similar knife to Pan's, yet more olden, more ancient, and a lot more rusty.

The two fought steadily for a while, clashing and clanging through the forest while no one particularly got victory against the other. They were of equal strength, which begrudgingly earned Pan some respect for his adversary. Just some. But Pan still had some tricks left up his sleeve. As if to signal the end of their duel, their weapons collided in a feat of great strength. Pan's earlier moves had led up to it. He'd made sure of it, after all.

The archer had grown tired from their lengthy duration, his breaths coming out hard and labored compared to Pan's short, easy ones. Noticing this, Pan smirked.

"Had enough?" he asked.

"Never," hissed the archer. "Over Robin Hood's dead body."

"I'd hate to be the one to ruin your parade, then."

The archer laughed bitterly. "My parade? Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself?"

"I like to think of myself as somewhat selfless."

"Try this on for selfless," he muttered, and all of the force Pan was pushing against vanished. Pan teetered, falling to the forest floor. Before he could get up, something hard, heavy, and dark crashed into Pan's head, driving him back to the ground, but this time wasn't like the others. This time was different. And this time, Pan's vision went dark completely.

The voices he heard warbled and echoed before he lost consciousness. Something about a "Good job on the surprise attack, Little John," and a deep voice replying, "I just hope I didn't hit him too hard this time." After that, the voices became distant, meaningless white static.

Pan's last thought: _Six more days._

* * *

 _In the middle of the afternoon with the hot sun peeking through cracks in the ceiling of Skull Rock's cave, Pan stood surveying the colossal hourglass filled to the brim in glowing golden sand. In the shadows hovered a mass of black shadows, two alert, cold orbs where the eyes would be. The day was warm outside, but the tension was anything but._

 _"213 years," the mass of black shadows croaked. "After that, your time is over, Peter Pan."_

 _"There is always another solution," Pan protested, his hands balled into fists. "In every story there are always two choices."_

 _"Neverland is no story. Neverland is a dream. You cannot live in a dream forever."_

 _"There must be a solution. Every problem has a solution, shadow."_

 _The shadow's eyes glared at Pan, unblinking. "Nor is this a problem."_

 _"You don't threaten me. Call it what you will, I will continue to find a cure."_

 _The shadow approached Pan slowly. "You have scoured all of Neverland in the two years you have been living here, and you have not found it. What makes you think you will find it now?"_

 _Pan thought about it for a long time. "Belief," he finally said._

 _"Neverland is all one huge, elaborate dream. What do all dreams survive on, Peter Pan?"_

 _"Belief," Pan said again._

 _"Find the truest belief," explained the shadow, "and you can spare your dream from waking."_

 _And just like that, the shadow dove out of Skull Rock, leaving Pan and the hourglass alone once more._

 _"I've got to find that belief," Pan muttered to himself. "And quickly."_

 _He, too, vanished from Skull Rock, on a mission to the mortal world._

* * *

Pan awoke with a start so fast, he almost fell out of the hammock he was lying in. He glanced around at his surroundings, groaning. From the looks of it, he was still in the same forest, but this time the sun was nowhere to be seen. Crickets chirped, owls hooted, and... what was that? Was that...? Pan turned his head to the noise, discerning a small, barely recognizable light in the distance. A bonfire? Pan could've sworn it sounded like laughter accompanying it just a moment ago.

Getting to his feet proved quite the challenge for Pan. The moment he stood erect, a pain to his head made him crumple to his knees. The pain was so strong, it was all Pan could gather his swimming thoughts to focus on for a few minutes. He grounded his teeth, waiting for the waves to recede, and when they finally did Pan tried standing to his feet again.

That, too, was a mistake. The waves increased this time, and Pan would have collapsed again if not for a strong arm getting a hold of him just in time. He helped Pan stand, which Pan was helpful for. When his head stopped pounding once more, Pan tilted his head up to get a look at the man... and almost puked.

The man who'd helped him up was no other than the giant from earlier with his thick, sharp-looking staff carved out of wood. But that wasn't what unsettled Pan. What unsettled him was the particularly worried expression on the giant's face.

"Sorry about that hit earlier, brother," he said. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength."

Pan wrenched his arm from the giant's hold. He immediately went for the knife he always kept in his boots, but to his horror he was returned empty-handed. "What did you do with my knife?!" Pan demanded.

"Will Stutely confiscated all your weapons," answered the giant. He moved to help Pan up. "Please, brother, no harm will come to you."

Pan backtracked at the giant's gesture, putting a hand to a tree to keep from falling over. "Don't touch me," he snarled. "I don't need your help."

The giant approached Pan carefully. "Apologies," he said again. "I hadn't meant to hit you that hard, but it had to be done. After I... After I knocked you out, everything stopped. Your boys put down their weapons and surrendered."

Pan's heart ached at that. "Any survivors? Felix? Rufio?" he inquired.

To his relief, the giant smiled kindly. "They've never been better. Not one boy perished. Good master Robin has arranged a feast until he decides what to do with the likes of you."

"That's where you're wrong. Tell this Robin Hood of yours I don't need a feast," Pan stated, his tone cold. "I'll be on my way within the hour. Now, where'd you put my knives?"

But the giant was determined. "Please stop struggling, brother. You are safe in the hands of Robin Hood."

Pan shook his head bitterly. "You have no idea how wrong you are. I'll only ask one more time for my knives, and you better give me an answer."

"I can't tell you," protested the giant, biting his lip. "Good master Robin - "

"You know where they are. You will tell me, regardless of Robin Hood."

The giant appeared to be tearing himself apart with his indecision. "I can't tell you," he repeated. On pure instinct, Pan's other hand flew into the air, ready to activate his magic on a moment's notice. Reluctantly, the giant continued on, "But... you must come with me, brother. Please."

If he was still on Neverland, Pan would have laughed. "What makes you think I will?"

"You have no other choice," replied the giant. In one fellow swoop, he grabbed Pan as if he was nothing more than a large sack of flour, tossing him over his back. Pan struggled to slide out of his hold, but it was to no avail. The giant had a grip like steel.

"You're to accompany Robin Hood at the feast," he said simply. "Then you may do whatever you like, brother."

And just like that, Pan had no option but to comply.


End file.
